


Key Item

by 0venm1tt



Series: ShuTaba shenanigans [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29425200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0venm1tt/pseuds/0venm1tt
Summary: The aftermath of the 11/20 interrogation, with a ShuTaba twist.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Sakura Futaba, Kurusu Akira/Sakura Futaba, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakura Futaba
Series: ShuTaba shenanigans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164566
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Key Item

Life had abruptly taken a turn for the worse, condensing itself into a blur of mismatched colors and sounds. Futaba’s heart had been in her throat for the better part of the day. She’d tried taking her mind off of the grand plan, of course. She’d tried rewatching Neo Featherman, playing the new Dim Spirits DLC, chatting with Yusuke, none of it helped. It was all she could do to walk over to Leblanc to visit Sojiro at work. Not that there were any customers at the moment. Normally, Sojiro would curse such a turn of events, but Futaba could tell that he was secretly glad for the silence. She paced back and forth in front of the bar, and he tapped his fingers anxiously on the desk. He was the first to speak. “I need a smoke. Make sure the cat’s fed, will ya?”

Futaba turned to Morgana, whose demeanor had noticeably sunk. He half-chirped, half-groaned, “I’m not that hungry. I’m going for a walk.”

She sighed, dragging her feet on her way to open the door for the alleged not-cat. It had been a full half-hour since the news report that the leader of the Phantom Thieves was dead. Not that she didn’t know it was coming. But she could never have guessed how agonizing the wait would be to see if the plan worked.

Abruptly, a car pulled to a halt outside, screeching tires cutting through the night’s dreary ambience. A flurry of opening car doors, voices, and rushed footsteps presented itself to Futaba’s ears, and she tentatively peeked out the window.

A black Jeep was across the street, and Sojiro and Sae Nijima were supporting a heavily bruised Ren Amamiya into the cafe. Acting purely on instinct, Futaba flung the door all the way open, ushering them all in. They sat Ren down into one of the booths, and Sae said, “I can’t stay for long, but if you have any way of getting him medical attention, do it immediately.”

“Takemi,” said Ren, his voice strained. “Tae Takemi. She’s only a block or two away.”

“Gotcha. Futaba, get him upstairs, will you?” said Sojiro, leaving with Sae.

Ren blinked hard. “Hey, Futaba.”

“Hey.” She gulped and extended an arm, which he gingerly took. “What happened to you?”

“Before Sae showed up and started questioning me, the cops used my body as a punching bag.” He stumbled, leaving Futaba to break his fall. “Oh, sorry about that.” Ren had a noticeable limp, and he began leaning on the hacker for support.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re alive, aren’t you?”

“That’s debatable. Ask me again when I get some painkillers in me.” A pained half-smile was on his face, and Futaba fought a blush. She had a massive crush on Ren, and one thing that made her heart melt was the way he smirked. Every encounter with Shadows would end with him flashing that enticing upturned corner of his mouth to the team and gesturing for them to follow him.

He laid down on his bed with a wince as his hand shot to his side. Futaba quietly asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

“Not at all. I really could use a friend about now.” He turned his head, platinum eyes opening a little wider. “The plan worked, Futaba. We did it.”

At this point, she let the tension in her shoulders go. The door downstairs opened, and hurried footsteps heralded Sojiro and Takemi joining them in the attic. The doctor stepped closer, saying, “Jeez, kid, you get hit by a truck or something?”

“Feels like it. How do I look, Doc?”

“Like hell.” She turned to the Sakuras. “I’ll have to ask you to leave for a moment.”

Again with the waiting. Sojiro went back outside, muttering something about a cigarette. Futaba sat on the bottom stair with her chin on her knees. What had happened to her key item? The slayer of shadows, thief of hearts, and giver of headpats? She twirled a bit of orange hair around her finger. He’d been so understanding when it came to her anxieties and traumas. That was what scared her the most about joining the Phantom Thieves, was having her teammates judge her for that which she could not control. Not only were all of the others fine with her, but Ren had gone out of his way to hang out with her and make her feel welcome. The most negative thing he’d ever said to her was a bit of gentle ribbing over her affinity for headpats, but he was still willing to give them out.

From upstairs, she heard a sharp “No!” It was Ren’s voice. Futaba quietly slunk up the stairs, listening intently. Takemi said, “C’mon, I need a blood sample so I can see what truth serum they used. The sooner I can tell, the sooner you can take some pain meds.”

“Please… No more needles…”

“Ren…” Futaba whispered. Takemi continued, “You’ve never had a problem with needles before.”

An idea struck Futaba. She peeked her head up over the attic’s floor from the stairs, calling out, “Ren, are you alright?”

Some whispering from the other side of the room sounded, along with the rustling of blankets. After a moment, he called back, “Can you come in, please?”

Ren had pulled covers over himself, exposing only his left arm. Even just his arm was bruised to hell and back, purple and blue blotting the toned flesh. Takemi had a butterfly needle in her hand, and he  
eyed it cautiously. Futaba took a couple shaky steps forwards, asking, “What do you need?”

He looked away from Takemi. “Can you hold my hand?”

“Mhm.” That was the most mundane answer Futaba could give to that question. She hoped he wasn’t focused on how fast her pulse was racing. Not necessarily because she was holding her crush’s hand, but there was a sort of rage inside of her. The sort of anger she hadn’t felt since she first realized that her mother was murdered. To think that someone could treat him like this…

Ren winced and tightened his grip a bit when the needle went in. Out of instinct, Futaba drew a slow circle in the back of his hand with her thumb. His grip loosened and his breathing slowed, prompting Futaba’s breathing to do the same. Takemi pulled the needle out, put a cap on the vial, and said, “Okay. I’ll take this to the clinic and call you when I have an answer. Don’t take any meds yet.”

“Thank you. Thank you both,” said Ren.

“No problem. This is free of charge, mind you,” replied Takemi. She turned to Futaba. “To catch you up, nothing’s broken, and there’s no sign of organ damage. I’ll still need to do X-rays tomorrow to check for cracked ribs, of course. For now, he needs rest.”

Ren laid all the way back down, partially exposing his muscular chest and even more bruises. At this moment, Sojiro made his appearance known. “That’s a relief. Futaba, we’d better leave him for now. Let’s go home.”

The Phantom Thief’s leader asked, “If it’s alright, I was actually going to ask if Futaba could stay for a while.” The hacker nodded, glancing at her stepfather.

“You sure? It looks like you could use some sleep,” Sojiro responded.

“I don’t think I can manage sleep without painkillers.”

The older man sighed. “Fine. But any funny business and I’ll get the shotgun, y’hear?”

“Don’t worry. I can’t manage anything more than a high five at the moment.”

“Hm.” Sojiro grumbled. “Take it easy, Ren. Hope you get to feelin’ better.” He left, and Takemi followed. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Futaba was used to hanging out with Ren in this attic. He had a steadily growing collection of retro games, and they were fond of playing them together (and taking the piss out of Gambla Goemon, the RNG garbagefest that it was). It was always fun, but now it felt different. Eventually, she broke the silence by asking, “What was that about truth serum?”

“They injected me with it before making me confess.”

“Ren…”

He closed his eyes and sat up with a pained grunt. His blanket fell, revealing his entire upper half. Looking down, he murmured, “Right, I forgot. I’m not exactly decent at the moment.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m only wearing boxers.”

“Oh, I-I’ll just head downstairs for a minute if you want to change.” Futaba headed down, and out of the corner of her eye, saw the full extent of Ren’s injuries before she slipped away. It almost looked like there was more bruised skin than clear skin, and he took a couple minutes to get dressed, filled with periodic hissing and swearing. Once Futaba came back up to see him in his standard t-shirt and sweatpants, he had fallen back onto his bed, sitting upright with his head hung low.

Getting closer, it became apparent that he was crying. Mentally, Futaba added another item to her promise list: help out Ren. Sitting next to him, she reciprocated an action that she’d received many times: softly rubbing the top of his head with her hand.

Ren looked up. Tears flowed silently down his battered face, but there was a certain understanding in the way he gazed into Futaba’s eyes. He whispered, “Some leader, huh? I made it out of Akechi’s trap alive and I’m still crying like I failed.”

“Ren.” Futaba ruffled his curly hair. “You’re my key item, the win condition to overcoming my fears. But now, it’s my turn to be your key item. With everything you do for me and our friends and the world, you deserve to just let it all out.”

He nodded. “Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you.”

She nodded back. “Definitely. I even added helping you to the promise list.”

Just like that, the darker details of Ren’s life were spilled out into the night. How his father left before he was born, and how his mother never really cared about him, even being noticeably excited to be rid of him once his probation started. Futaba learned about how Phantom Thievery was the only thing he ever felt like he did right, and how even that was starting to feel shaky given the day’s events. “That’s about everything. Kinda feels good to have it out there.” He laughed bitterly. “I’ve always felt alone, more than anything else. Ever since I can remember.”

“You’re not alone anymore. Us Thieves, we’re your party. We’re your support characters. And if nobody else, you’ll always have…” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “me.”

Ren pulled her into a one-armed hug. “I love you, Futaba Sakura. I know this isn’t the best time to confess, but I love you like I’ve never loved anyone before.”

In an instant, Futaba felt her heart drop, and then soar. “There’s no way I just heard that right.” Her face was bright red, which she didn’t need a mirror to see.

Wiping away his tears, Ren repeated, “I love you.”

“B-but Ann! And Makoto, and Haru… aren’t they all prettier and less weird?”

“Not to me, they’re not.” He pulled her closer to him, initiating a gentle headpat.

She smiled, whispering, “I love you too. Ever since we first met, I’ve had such a crush on you.”

“Y’know, I had a feeling about that.” Futaba saw the conviction in his eyes return. That was the confidence characteristic of Joker, the steel determination to expose the broken world for what it was. The same Joker, no, the same Ren Amamiya who encouraged his friends when they felt their lowest, the one who reassured them when they were feeling down, the one who made sure to call out, “Nice one, Oracle,” every time she managed to strengthen the group.

Futaba cleared her throat. “So… we’re boyfriend and girlfriend now?”

Ren chuckled. “I suppose we are.”

“My boyfriend. I’ll have to get used to that.”

At that moment, a message from Takemi appeared, confirming that painkillers were safe to use now. Ren downed a couple of pills before laying down. “Care to join me?” he asked, suave voice in full effect.

“Would I ever.” Futaba laid down next to him, nestling her head beside his neck and reaching up to behind his head. “Seriously, how is your hair this fluffy? It’s magical.”

“Heh, I’m not sure myself.” He planted a kiss on Futaba’s forehead. “I hope ‘turn what would have been the worst day of Ren’s life into a delightful evening’ was on your promise list, because you’ve done it.”

Futaba removed her glasses and put them on a nearby stack of manga and books, making sure to leave a peck on Ren’s cheek on the way. Today was perfect by no stretch of the word. But as she lay in her new boyfriend’s arms as he drifted off into slumber, Futaba Sakura decided that any worry was best saved for another day. After all, if she was with Ren, then any obstacle would fall before her, from a crowded subway to the all-out war with Akechi that had doubtlessly been initiated. Before she fell asleep, she whispered, “Good night, my key item.”


End file.
